Green Eyes, Happy Sighs
by Ellatrix Lestrange
Summary: When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance. Some swearing, but quite a sweet fic.:3
1. Draco's POV - Peculiar Thoughts

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** K+  
**Genre:** romance  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary:** When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

The early morning in the great hall was filled with sleepy, albeit cheerful conversation. The breakfast was however far from cheerful for Draco Malfoy, despite the atmosphere around him. Beams of light shone through the dust from the large window behind the staff table, which was quite different from the last time he had seen it; many teachers were missing. With a guilty twist in his stomach, he noticed Professors Burbage and Dumbledore were gone, as was Snape. He gulped. He was the cause of one of those, and a witness of the other. Eighth year hadn't been very good so far, and it was only the first morning. The war had left his name and reputation in quite a mess. Many nearby students seemed to be whispering and not-so-subtly pointing in his direction.

As much as he hated to admit it, the war had thrown him in the mud. Barely any student would talk to him and would only look in his direction to send filthy glances. This didn't bode well with the boy who was used to being admired and envied by most of the school. His father had been able to clean up the bloody stain on the floor that was the Malfoy family a fair bit, of course, but apparently the fact that the students no longer had to stay in friendly territory with Draco because of their families had caused them to turn their backs on him. He was sat in his usual place in the great hall sullenly pondering his life. His chin was in his hand, his elbow resting on the dark wooden table. The Slytherin table was mostly subdued, with more than a couple of places empty. He tried not to think of the abandoned place next to him that was once Crabbe's.

Miserably, the blonde Slytherin served himself two sausages. He looked around the hall. Only the Slytherins looked bothered about anything; the other house tables seemed fairly relieved and relaxed, especially the bloody Gryffindors, although they were the idiots who looked most injured. Draco had made a decision over the holidays; as much as he was going to loathe it, he was going to be civil with Potter. It was hardly going to help his argument that he hadn't wanted to be a death eater if everyone knew he wanted the dark side's victim skewered on a broomstick and fed to a giant arachnid. That would probably be slightly suspicious.  
Potter and his cronies looked ecstatic that the war was over. Potter was smiling and laughing at something the Weasel girl had said. Draco narrowed his eyes. He supposed Potter now appeared very endearing to pretty much every girl in Hogwarts, and suspiciously, to some boys. Perhaps being the saviour of the world comes with that advantage.

Draco took a sip of his pumpkin juice. It was understandable though, he was now much taller; his skin just a tiny bit darker than it had previously been when Draco had last seen him here at Hogwarts. Maybe that's what you get when you're on the run and constantly outdoors. He also appeared noticeably slimmer, evidently from lack of food. His jaw looked more defined and his unruly, raven-black hair was scruffier, looking far less dorky than it once was. He looked much more like he had during their third year at Hogwarts. His hideous glasses were gone, revealing a pair of sparkling green eyes. The boy also appeared far happier than Draco had seen him before.

_He actually looks quite attractive._

Draco almost spat out his juice in surprise and alarm at himself. Choking a little on his drink, he looked with wide, un-seeing eyes at the table.  
"Draco, darling, I don't mean to intrude, but what exactly are you doing with my pumpkin juice?" Pansy's amused voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the goblet he had just put down, then at the table in front of him; it was indeed Pansy's drink, as Draco's was sitting untouched beside his plate.  
"Oh, um- my apologies, Pansy…" Draco replied weakly, sheepishly returning it to her.  
"Draco, are you okay? You look slightly… pink in the face?"  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered stiffly, feeling his face heat up a little more.  
"Don't worry about it, the Prophet always exaggerates. I'm sure Lucius and Narcissa are coping, they manage to survive everything,"  
"W- What? What about the Daily Prophet?" He hadn't realised the news of his mother and father had been published.  
"It's not particularly big news," she said, handing him her copy of the wizarding newspaper. He unfolded it, frowning. On the middle page was a picture of his mother and father walking out of a courtroom, looking relieved yet slightly ruffled. His father's face was pale yet held high. His mother's was the same. The headline above the article read:

_'MALFOY FAMILY'S COURT CHARGES - NOT HARSH ENOUGH?'_

Draco glanced at it, scowling; he was in no mood to read stupid, biased lies about his family. Just before he could angrily screw it up and throw it moodily at Pansy, however, a small extract on the page made him stop.

_'Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, confirms rumours of assistance from both Narcissa and her son, Draco Malfoy during the war. This evidence seemed to tip the scales for the Malfoys drastically in their favour. Many agreeably argued that this was unjust, the family having played a large role for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Lucius Malfoy, eldest of the three, is sentenced to two years in Azkaban, whilst the mother of the family scrapes being house-bound to the same length of time as Lucius. The Malfoy heir escapes from charges. Neither Narcissa, Lucius or Draco Malfoy could be reached for comment.'_

His mouth dropped a little - his mother hadn't mentioned Potter giving evidence for them in her owl to him this morning; although she'd told him of the charges. After scanning the article briefly, he folded it up and returned it to Pansy.  
"I know, right? Potter giving evidence for your family! Did you really lie to the Dark Lord to protect him?"  
"Yes, Pansy, I did; as did Mother."  
"Merlin, Draco! What did you do that for?! I could never stand up to the Dark Lord like that! And I thought you hated Potter?"  
"Correct, Pansy, but my family changed sides a couple of hours before the end of the war. The Dark Lord was a mad man. We only followed him to stay safe, you know."  
"Well that was obvious; you're not evil to the core, Draco."  
"I'm not evil at all!"  
"Of course not," smirked Pansy with a wink.  
"I did stuff for the light side!"  
"Whatever you say, Draco, dear."  
"I helped them!"  
"Oh, really? How exactly did you do that?" Pansy rolled her eyes.  
"N- Never mind."  
"Exactly; you didn't help the light side."  
"I did too!"  
"Well you haven't been able to give me one example, sweetheart."  
"Fine! I hated that lunatic of a leader! I wasn't going to murder that fool, Dumbledore! I lied about Potter's identity to the Dark Lord! I let him take my wand as he escaped the Manor! I refused to cast a Cruciatus curse – I couldn't! I would've openly changed sides had it not been for the fact that my entire house was now the 'hang-out' for the Death Eaters! I'm not some bloody Gryffindor who can sacrifice everything, Pansy!" Draco hissed. Pansy just smirked superiorly at him.

_Oh fuck. That girl is so bloody sneaky._

"Fine, you got me to admit it. How _very _Slytherin." Draco grumbled.  
"Thank you, darling," she grinned.  
"I hated every moment of being a Death Eater, though. I really did, Pansy. I hated every one of his followers." Draco said darkly.  
"You didn't seem exactly full of dread a couple of years ago."  
"Father told me it would be great! He made it sound all… _political. _It was murderous. Pansy, if I could have a time-turner right now, I'd go all the way back to before then and escape the Dark Lord while I could."  
"What's a 'time-turner'?"  
"Never mind."  
"The Dark Lord must have thought you had _some_ potential, he chose you to assassinate Dumbledore." Draco flinched.  
"He knew I wouldn't succeed," he said in a hollow voice. 'He just wanted to punish Father for betraying him."  
"Oh."  
"Why did it have to be me?" Draco asked hoarsely.  
"I don't know, darling, but you can't just mope around."  
"I am _not_ moping around!" He hissed.  
"Explain that to those sausages you just slaughtered with your fork." Draco blinked and looked at his plate.  
"You-" Draco sighed. "Don't worry, Pansy."  
"It's okay darling. But you may need to choose another breakfast, yours no longer looks edible," smirked Pansy.  
"Right," he said, helping himself to a pancake. "Pass me the maple syrup."  
"Of course," she said, handing him the jar. She visibly hesitated once he'd taken it.  
"Draco?"  
"Pansy?"  
"You've changed a lot."  
"Right."  
"After the war. You seem… subdued."  
"Is that a compliment or an insult, Pansy?"  
"It's not necessarily for the worst."  
Draco didn't respond; merely pouring a helping of syrup over his breakfast. It was easy for her to say, she hadn't been forced to follow the Dark Lord.  
"Oh, well, I'm going to go, Draco."  
"Fine," he muttered.  
Pansy hesitated again for a second, then left. Draco wasn't in the mood for talking right now. The war had left his family and their reputation in shreds.

_Why does it have to be essential for all students to have to come back and do an eighth year?_

He glared at his plate. Quite a few people so far had sent him nasty looks or looks of disgust; Draco had just sneered back at them as if he didn't care, which was regrettably untrue. Even most of the Slytherins were avoiding him, so he obviously didn't have the power over them that he used to. He fiddled with his pancake with his fork, hastily stopping as he realised it wasn't good manners; and subconsciously settling for gazing through the huge window opposite at the calm, grey, waters of the lake against the blue-grey silhouettes of the mountains.

_Why didn't I listen to Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy tower? Why didn't I see how foolish Father was being? Why couldn't I have had that bloody Gryffindor courage to stand up for myself? Why was I filled with such bloody cowardice that meant I was too afraid? Why wouldn't father just do as I suggested and run away?_

Questions of doubt swam mercilessly through his mind as he finished his breakfast. The most feeling sorry for himself was doing was giving him a headache. He sighed, slung his satchel over his shoulder, and left the great hall.


	2. Harry's POV - The Potions Partner

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** K+  
**Genre:** romance  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary:** When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

"They just won't leave me alone! It's brilliant!" Ron laughed in disbelief.  
"It's rather annoying, actually," Hermione re-arranged her uniform that had gone askew from her being knocked to the ground by a large group of Hufflepuff girls in their year. "That's the second time your little fan club have sent me flying."  
"Oh, right, sorry. It's not my fault, though. Be glad you're not going out with Harry, he's the one getting all the fans."  
Harry laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't have broken up with Ginny, I think your sister in protective mode could make even Voldemort back off."  
"Except unlike all these girls, Voldemort wanted to kill you, not kiss you," said Ron.  
"The only thing that bothers me about them is the fact that they were all for calling you an attention-seeking liar in fifth year, yet now you're famous, they're all over you."  
"Well cheers, Hermione, nice to know my fame's the only reason they like me," Harry snorted.  
"You know what I mean. They're all turning into thousands of Lavender Brown duplicates- or worse, Romilda Vane ones."  
"Oh great, I'm going to have to be careful I don't end up eating something spiked with love potion."  
Ron stopped dead, a horrified expression dawning on his face.  
"Ron? You okay?"  
"I ate a jar of Honeydukes sweets earlier!" Ron said with wide eyes, "what if someone spiked them?"  
"I think I'd know if you were under a love potion right now, Ron, last time you were, I distinctly remember you hanging me from the ceiling when I insulted her."  
"Oh," said Ron, the tips of his ears turning red.  
"Come on, let's just hurry up and get to Potions, we're going to be at least a minute late if we don't hurry up."  
"Alright…"

Five minutes later the trio entered the dingy Potions room. As they entered, about fifteen female heads snapped up, coming to look in excitement immediately at a taken-aback Harry.  
"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn beamed, opening his arms out wide. "You're late! Not to worry, not to worry, just pair up with whomever you like and we'll get started."  
Almost before Slughorn had spoken, the majority of girls in the class immediately waved their hands in the air in excitement. Harry opened his mouth in surprise.  
"Oh, err… Professor, do you mind if I go in a three with Ron and Hermione?"  
Slughorn paused and looked around before replying.  
"Partners only, I'm afraid, Harry, but it's alright, you're in luck, Mr Malfoy is also devoid of a partner, you can work with him."  
Harry stiffened and groaned inwardly; he had no idea where he was with Malfoy; he supposed they may no longer be arch-enemies after saving each other's lives during the war, but they weren't exactly friends. By the looks of the blonde Slytherin after hearing his name, he was thinking the same. Harry looked around the classroom again, pouty, disappointed faces looking up at him. He decided Malfoy was a better bet.  
"A- Alright, Professor," he said awkwardly, walking over to the back of the classroom. Malfoy, frowning a little, just faced the other way as he sat down.  
The lesson was pretty much the same as lessons in their sixth year; although it was much harder. Malfoy didn't talk to him at all, bar asking him to go and get potion ingredients from the supply room, with which Harry did with no argument, Harry wasn't all that good at potions, and Malfoy looked like he was handling the potion great on his own.

_He really seems to enjoy potions._

Harry had always assumed it had just been Snape wanting to show him up, but apparently, Malfoy had talent anyway. The Slytherin was hunched over, a long quill in his hand, squinting at their near-golden potion in concentration. A few blonde strands had come loose from his neat, slicked back hair, but he didn't appear to have noticed them as he scribbled down notes on his parchment. Suddenly, he froze.  
"Potter, do you mind _not_ gazing at me while I try to complete our potion? I know I'm absolutely stunningly beautiful, but please, as flattering as it is, I am straight."  
Harry blinked, unaware that he had been.  
"Oh, err… I don't really have much to do at the moment, you're definitely a lot better at this lesson than I am."  
"Clearly," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It's not as if Snape lurking around you smirking could have been very encouraging."  
Well this was a new side of Draco Malfoy.  
"Or a gang of Slytherins cackling at my every mistake," Harry replied, slightly amused.  
"You were rather awful though, Potter."  
"I wasn't _that_ bad!"  
"Not in sixth year, no. And you were never as bad as Longbottom and Weasley," he smirked.  
Harry looked over at Ron, who had just jumped back from his cauldron in fright, almost knocking over a startled Hermione who was carrying a few pots of ingredients to their table. A loud hissing noise was coming from Ron and Hermione's cauldron, Ron yelped and backed away, grabbing Hermione's wrist and dragging her with him. The class turned around to see what the disturbance was just in time to see a large, shimmering bronze gloop rising slowly from the cauldron.  
"GET DOWN!" Hermione shrieked.  
As one, the class dropped what they were doing and dived under their desks, all besides Harry, who appeared frozen to the spot.  
"Potter, get _down_!" Malfoy grabbed his hand and yanked Harry to his knees just in time. There was a loud sound like a bubble popping, then a large splash sound. The class remained crouching for a few seconds, then, when the hissing had stopped, Harry peered cautiously over the top of the desk. The classroom was splattered from the ceiling to the floor in the Bravery potion they'd been making, or _Fortitundinis_, its real name. He breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up, the class cautiously following his lead. The potion itself wasn't particularly dangerous, (unless taken in masses, of course) however it was at boiling temperature, which would be harmful no matter what the liquid. At that moment, Slughorn came running out of his office, wand held high.  
"Did anyone get hurt?" Slughorn asked frantically, looking around at them all with a panicked expression.  
"No," breathed the class.  
"Good, good. _Scourgify_. Now, on with your work, please, there are only five minutes left until you have to hand it in, and I expect those potions to be golden by the time you've finished. Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, it's okay, just clear up your equipment."  
The dripping bronze liquid disappeared from the walls and the class resumed brewing. Harry turned away from the sight of a seething Hermione hissing at a cowering Ron to look at Malfoy.  
"Cheers, Malfoy, I don't think I would've enjoyed being coated in sizzling potion," he said as he sat down.  
"You're welcome, it might have been just a little painful," Malfoy dismissed, brushing down his robes and doing the same.  
"Yes," Harry laughed. "Err… Malfoy? I was just wondering… should we perhaps- call a truce?"  
After the war Harry had decided he was going to set aside his differences with his rivals, because sometimes, they weren't all they seemed. He'd learnt that from Snape.  
"Well, err…" Malfoy scratched his neck and looked at the ground. "Yes, maybe we should. I mean, we did save each other's' lives. Um… truce?"  
Harry looked at the blonde's outstretched hand for a second, then reached out and shook it with a slightly unsure grin.  
"Truce."  
"And I-" Malfoy paused and twiddled his fingers, seemingly contemplating whether or not to say something. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Potter. For everything. I didn't want to be a death eater."  
Harry was taken aback to say the least.  
"You're sorry? I could tell you hated being evil, but I thought you wanted all that pureblood stuff. But, uh, thanks. If you really mean it, then I forgive you. The war made people do terrible things," he said, an image of Xenophilius Lovegood's hysterical face swimming before his eyes. People would do anything for family. Harry looked up just in time to see the boy wince and clench his fists.  
"Potter, just because I thought I was better than muggleborns, doesn't mean I'd murder them," he said, his voice shaking, cold grey eyes fixing him with an icy glare.  
"'_Thought'_? Don't you anymore?" Harry asked, curiosity making him ignore the look he was getting.  
"My beliefs were rapidly deflating as the war went on. There was no difference in skill because of blood. I would've openly changed sides if it wasn't for the fact that my family refused to move," said the blonde bitterly.  
"Err, right," said Harry. Malfoy was looking at Harry with an alarmingly strong gaze. "So, uh, I take it that's why you didn't say it was me? Back in the Manor, I mean."  
"Potter, could you even imagine how terrible a world run by Death Eaters would be?"  
"Of course I could, It was kind of what we were fighting against."  
"But then why did you come back for me in the Room of Requirement? It would've been another Death Eater down for you. A worthless, stupid opponent."  
Harry was slightly shocked to hear the prince of Slytherin talk about himself like that.  
"I couldn't let you die in a fire just because I had a grudge against you! Who in their right mind could do anything like that and live with themselves? And you're not stupid, you know."  
"How would you know?" Malfoy grunted, turning away in his seat to begin tidying the desk.  
"Well, just look right in front of you! I think we're the only pair who's managed to get this damn potion right in the whole class, and it was you who did most of the work!"  
The boy looked up in slight surprise, his eyes surveying the contents of everyone's potions. The shades of the liquid varied in different cauldrons. Most peoples were a dull light brown colour, all having ingredients dropped into them or being stirred hastily as the students struggled to complete before the deadline. The remaining potions were all murky yellow in colour; Neville Longbottom's a vibrant green. Harry and Malfoy's potion however, was a light, shimmering gold.  
"Too bad my intelligence didn't apply itself to finding a way to escape the Dark Lord," muttered the blonde.  
"It's over now, you can't do anything about it," Harry murmured, scooping up a handful of purple dragon scales and dropping them back into their jar.  
"I suppose not," said the other boy, stacking up some jars and wiping the surface of the desk with his free hand. "Hey, can you take the other stuff back to the supply room with me? My arms are full."  
"Sure," replied the Gryffindor. He carefully laid his arms with the remaining bottles and jars from the desk and followed the Slytherin. They reached the door to the supply room and Malfoy gently pushed the door open with his foot. The pair entered the dark, dusty, high-ceilinged room.  
"Merlin, I hate this place."  
"Why?"  
"Do you not find these things creepy?" Harry asked incredulously, jerking his head in the direction of a jar containing eyeballs next to him.  
"Not particularly," he answered distractedly, his grey eyes scanning the tall shelves for a small label reading '_Fangs_'. "Honestly, it's impossible to find anything in this bloody place."  
"Snape probably laid it out like this on purpose, just to annoy us before he left," muttered Harry in annoyance.  
"_Collocarus_,"  
Harry turned around to see a long, charcoal coloured wand quivering in mid-air. It hovered above Malfoy's hand and then spun quickly to point at a section on the shelves on the opposite end of the room. The blonde smoothly plucked his wand back from the air and strolled over to the direction the wand had previously been pointing to.  
"How do you do that spell? I didn't see," Harry asked curiously, pulling out his own wand from his pocket. Malfoy placed the jar of snake fangs on the empty space in the shelf and smirked.  
"It's a pretty cool wand movement to be honest. You just put it between two fingers, spin it and say '_Collocarus_'. It'll point you to where something belongs."  
Harry uncertainly put his own wand between his fingers and flicked them.  
"_Collocarus_," he spoke. The wand instantly rose from his clutch, hovering for a second to find out where the ginger roots should go in the room, before swivelling sharply to point at a spot right next to Malfoy's head, making the blonde jump almost a foot in the air in surprise. Harry sniggered and walked past him to put away the ingredients.  
"Oh, shut up," grumbled Malfoy, although there was a small smile playing at his lips.  
The two continued to return ingredients to their correct places until eventually their arms were finally empty of any animal body parts, plants or jars of slime. They left the narrow room and sat down at their desk. Harry began to pack away his Potions book whilst Malfoy poured an extract of the _Fortitundinis _into a small vial labelled with both the Gryffindor and Slytherin's names. He peered inside the glass container.  
"I did do quite a good job, didn't I?" Malfoy smiled and Harry almost dropped his quill and books to the floor in surprise. The blonde had a really beautiful smile. His silver-grey eyes twinkled as he quirked an eyebrow at Harry's flabbergasted expression. The Slytherin's lips twitched in amusement. Harry shook himself hastily.  
"Um… Yeah, like I said, you're pretty good at this subject," mumbled Harry, lowering his head to pretend to be rummaging in his bag so Malfoy wouldn't see an unwelcome blush creep over his cheeks.  
"I'm pretty good at most things," Malfoy commented smugly. Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Especially managing to brag about almost anything that ever happens to you," he snorted.  
Malfoy's smile stayed across his face as he lowered his head a little and looked at the desk. A few blonde strands of hair fell loose from his slicked-back hair and came to rest on his pale cheekbones. Harry looked down at his hands too, feeling a small smile form on his own face. He was just about to say something before Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together and looked around eagerly for their potion.  
"Harry! That's a marvellous looking potion you made there! My, it's exactly the right colour!" Slughorn beamed and admired the golden liquid. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Harry. "No doubt you did all of the work."  
"Err, no, well I didn't do _all_-"  
"So modest, so modest," chuckled the walrus-like man in front of him.  
"Excuse me?" Malfoy drawled. "Potter and I worked on this _together_, therefore it isn't just his work, Professor. I really do think you're being unfair."  
Slughorn turned around to face the Slytherin, his mouth slightly open as he surveyed the blonde's relaxed slouch on the chair.  
"Yes. Yes, of course," he said sceptically and bustled off.  
"Apology accepted," said Malfoy under his breath.  
"Don't take it personally, Malfoy, he's obsessed with me and anyone else he thinks he can get benefits from."  
"Ah."  
The last few minutes of the lesson were spent bitching about certain professors and their quality of teaching. Once the bell had rung, he shouldered his bag, smiled his goodbye at the blonde and set off to join Ron and Hermione to their next lesson.

_~*DM/HP*~_


	3. Draco's POV - A Dusty Turquoise Book

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** K+  
**Genre:** romance  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary:** When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

The Potions lesson with his former arch-enemy had had quite an interesting result. The two boys who would have once tried to hex the other into oblivion at the sight of each other were now greeting with grins and waves. Apart from Pansy, it was safe to say that the green eyed boy was pretty much the only student at Hogwarts who didn't send him glares or filthy looks of disgust. It was really beginning to piss Draco off, and as determined as he was to deny it, he couldn't help feeling a little hurt as he watched the people he'd spent most of his time at Hogwarts with ignoring and sniggering at him; it wasn't even as if those bastards had been on the good side themselves, people only recognised Draco because of how high up he had been.

The blonde was going to the library to do the Astronomy homework he'd been set the day before. It was a Saturday afternoon so the place would be without a doubt pretty full of students. Fortunately for Draco, he knew a way to get almost guaranteed privacy.  
He entered the large wooden doors to the library and strolled through the aisles, smirking to himself at the groups of hot and bothered students fighting for places at desks and a rabid looking Madam Pince who looked as if she was going to explode any minute. He turned a corner and stopped as he saw a harassed looking boy with exceptionally messy raven hair leaning against a bookshelf in a corner; he was wearing light blue fitted jeans, a navy blue polo shirt and a highly irritated expression. He grinned and made his way over to Potter.  
"You look as if you've been hit by a fidgeting jinx," drawled Draco, his hands in the pockets of his black slacks.  
The stressed Gryffindor looked up sharply and Draco raised a pale eyebrow, smiling.  
"Oh, it's you," breathed the Gryffindor. "I really don't suggest trying to study in here, I was just considering leaving myself."  
"Too crowded?"  
"Definitely."  
"Follow me," winked Draco.  
Potter gave him a questioning glance but lifted himself off the bookshelf and closed his book. Draco led the Gryffindor through aisles after aisles of Hogwarts' huge library. When he reached the only one devoid of students, he turned and grinned at the brunette.  
"Bet you didn't know about this place."  
At Harry's confused expression, he turned around to face a set of shelves. He pulled out his wand and used it to smartly tap a dusty turquoise book. He stepped back and quickly glanced over his shoulder again. The book Draco had tapped glowed pale blue, and then moved slowly forward through where the wood of the shelf should have been. Potter watched in amazement as every single book on the bookshelf pushed itself forward and shifted around to make a wide, rectangular archway with planks of wood stretched across it. Between the planks was a room that was very familiar to Draco. Abruptly, the twelve planks slid out of place and dropped themselves neatly in front of the arch to form three steps. The Slytherin glanced at Potter's stunned face again, before placing his hand on the boy's lower back.  
"Ladies first," said Draco.  
The Gryffindor looked at him for a second, then grinned.  
"But gentlemen just before," he smirked, walking into the room.  
The room was circular and comfortable; a large arched window was facing opposite the door, with a beautiful view of the lake below. In front of the window sat an antique chaise loveseat in royal blue, a small matching leg rest to the right in front of it. The walls were bearing the same tall bookshelves as the library they had just left, but weren't missing any borrowed books. A crystal chandelier hung over the centre of the room, capturing the afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window.  
"Like it?" Draco smirked.  
"I- How the hell did you find this place?"  
The blonde shrugged.  
"I have my ways."  
"Does anyone else know this is here?"  
"I doubt it, there's never anyone in here no matter how packed the library is," he said, elegantly dropping himself down onto the loveseat and placing his legs on the leg rest.  
"I've never seen it before," he breathed.  
"Well, what are you staring at, Potter? Didn't you want to study?"  
Potter blinked.  
"Oh, yeah. Mind if I sit here?" the Gryffindor inquired, indicating to the space next to Draco.  
"Of course not, where else are you going to sit?"  
"Thanks," grinned the boy.  
Draco watched as he sat down.  
"Why the new wardrobe, Potter?"  
Potter looked up at him, then back down to look at his clothes.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well, I specifically remember the kind of clothes you once displayed. If I remember correctly, you used to wear faded jeans, baggy jackets and worn shoes; not to mention that ghastly pale blue top you seemed to wear for seven years straight."  
"Oh, right," the Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Ginny forced me to come shopping with her over the holidays. She said I now had an 'image' to keep up."  
"Pushy girlfriend, then?"  
The brunette next to him raised his eyebrows.  
"Girlfriend?"  
"I thought you and the Weaselette were dating?"  
"Oh. Well yes, we were, but we kind of broke up."  
"Which one of you broke up with the other and why? I must know the details."  
"I… I broke up with her. She's a great girl and everything, but it just… it didn't feel right."  
"Was she okay with it?"  
"Yeah, apparently she'd been thinking the exact same thing," shrugged Potter.  
Draco grinned mischievously.  
"So you're single now then?"  
The Gryffindor frowned.  
"Yeah, why?"  
"I was just wondering," winked the Slytherin, leaning into the boy's neck and whispering seductively into his ear. "Because, you know… you do look very _sexy_ in those new clothes…"  
Potter looked slightly uncomfortable.  
"Malfoy, what're you doing?"  
"The fact that you no longer have those glasses helps, too…"  
Draco grinned as the brunette pulled a face.  
"Malfoy, you do realise you're being very-"  
Suddenly, Potter stopped for a second, then gave an evil grin.  
"I'm being very what...?" Draco purred.  
"You're being very… _attractive_." Potter smirked.  
"Oh?"  
"Quite irresistible…"  
The Gryffindor turned his head sharply so his cheek was resting against Draco's and continued.  
"But then, you've always been irresistible…"  
Something fluttered inside Draco's stomach and he suddenly realised that his heart was pounding very, very fast.  
"Really?" Draco asked suddenly, his seductive act gone.  
"Oh yes," grinned Potter, turning back to his book.  
"You… You find me attractive?"  
"Of course not, Malfoy! I hated you for what, seven years?"  
"Oh. Right. Of course."  
Draco could feel a lump in his throat as panic swept over him.

_Why the hell had I felt so excited when Potter nearly kissed my neck?!_

Potter looked up, frowning.  
"You okay there? You look ill."  
"Yeah," gulped Draco. "Fine."  
The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow but went back to his reading without comment.

_Why in the name of Merlin's saggy left tit did I feel so… disappointed when he said he hated me for seven years?! _

The Slytherin covered his face from view of the green eyed boy with his book and discreetly ran his fingers over his burning cheek. He suddenly felt quite queasy as he remembered the fluttery feeling in his stomach when the boy had said he was irresistible.

_I'm not gay. I can't be, I've had girlfriends. I've never once been interested in another boy! _

Well, admittedly he'd never really felt anything for any of them, but he couldn't be gay, he was a Malfoy; he had his own heir to bring up! How was he supposed to do that with another boy? And what would his father say about it? The Slytherin peered over his book at the Gryffindor reading peacefully next to him. Draco couldn't have… feelings for Potter, they'd loathed each other just a few years ago. But then… perhaps he'd always liked him, or maybe the Gryffindor had always been good looking but Draco had never noticed because of his glasses and shabby clothes. The Slytherin was startled out of his trance by the very boy he'd been thinking about.  
"Malfoy, do you mind _not_ gazing at me while I try to study? I know I'm absolutely stunningly beautiful, but please, as flattering as it is, I am straight."  
Draco's eyes went wide and he vaguely recognised what he'd said as what he himself had said in Potions.  
"Oh, very funny, Potter," he sneered, trying to fight down a blush trying to creep over his face.  
Potter looked concerned.  
"Malfoy, is this about me saying I hated you? Because I was joking, we're… I suppose we're friends now, I just meant that how was I supposed to have always found you attractive when we were fighting for most of the time we knew each other."  
"But… you said I was unattractive."  
The Gryffindor grinned and rolled his eyes.  
"Is your ego really that big that you were _that_ shocked someone thought you weren't attractive? I didn't even mean it like that, you kind of are."  
"I- You think I'm attractive?"  
The boy blushed slightly.  
"Not_ that_ way Malfoy! I meant, well, platonically, you're pretty handsome."

_Potter thinks I'm handsome?_

Draco desperately tried to ignore the stupid little fluttering thing in his stomach.  
"Thanks," he breathed.  
Potter was still eyeing him warily. There was an awkward silence.  
"It's fine." He smiled slightly.  
After hesitation, the Gryffindor awkwardly scratched his neck and turned back to his book. Draco spent the rest of the afternoon staring at the same page of his own, his mind racing with doubts of his sexuality and sneaking glances at the Golden Boy.

_How did I not notice before how cute he is? No! Stop thinking like that, Draco! Why the hell do I suddenly like Potter so much? Perhaps it's his eyes; I never noticed before how bright they were when he had glasses. And then, when I could feel his breath tickling my ear… But I used to hate him! I can't possibly have some kind of bloody… crush on him! I bloody loathed him! All we did was call a flaming truce, that shouldn't make a person feel like their heart's just flipped over. Perhaps I just felt like that because I haven't had romance for a long time. My body's just taken over my mind in desperation. I hope. I should probably get a girlfriend, as if anyone would be willing to go out with an ex-Death Eater._

___~*DM/HP*~_


	4. Harry's POV - Third Wheeler

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** T  
**Genre:** romance/angst  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary: **When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance. Some swearing, but quite a sweet fic.:3**  
****Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

_What the hell happened to my life at Hogwarts?_

It was almost midnight, Harry was sat in the armchair in the Gryffindor common room, gazing into the golden flames of the fire with a red face. On the scarlet sofa beside him sat his two best friends, currently sharing a kiss so long Harry wondered if they were both on Gillyweed.

_Ever since I've been back, these two have been snogging and flirting and hugging in front of me non-stop. _

He almost missed the days when they'd been constantly bickering and accusing each other's pets of murder. Needless to say, he felt very third-wheelish in their company. It wasn't that he didn't approve of their relationship, he thought they were perfect for each other, they just didn't seem to notice Harry at all, and it had grown worse and worse all week. It was quite awkward having to walk alongside the couple whilst they were holding hands and talking between themselves. Ron's schedule now consisted of two things, eating and Hermione, sometimes eating Hermione judging by the sounds coming out of their mouths. His bushy haired friend was the same, only having time for her boyfriend and studying. Trying not to look at the pair, he gingerly picked up the box of Chocolate Frogs that had been knocked off the sofa and popped one into his mouth. It melted warm and sweet on his tongue but still didn't help his discomfort. He looked around the empty common room for inspiration for something to do. There was nothing. He sighed, lifted himself out of the armchair and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Erm, guys?"  
The pair reluctantly broke apart and looked up at him expectantly.  
"Yeah Harry?"  
"I'm going to go."  
"Oh. Where?" Hermione asked.  
"I'm not sure. Just around the castle I suppose."  
"Okay, look out for Filch!"  
"Yeah, I will. I'll bring my invisibility cloak."  
"Bye mate, see you tomorrow."  
"Bye," Harry said stiffly.  
There was an awkward moment of hesitation before he walked past them to the dormitories to retrieve the cloak. By the time he came back down again his two best friends were already engrossed in another snog.

The corridors of Hogwarts were cold and shadowy at night. Harry didn't exactly have a destination as he trailed through the school under the cover of his fathers' cloak. He was slightly angry at Ron and Hermione, they didn't mean to exclude him, but Harry couldn't help the sore lonely feeling tugging at his heart. Hermione and Ron were the only people Harry could tell everything to. He slipped off his cloak and looked through a tall, arched window.  
"Potter?"  
Harry almost jumped out of his skin and out of the window in surprise. He spun around.  
"Potter, what're you doing here?"  
"M- Malfoy! I thought you were Filch. Thank Merlin you're not," he breathed.  
Malfoy was dressed in a thin, grey, three-quarter length loose top and a pair of skinny trousers in black silk. The Slytherin noticed the direction of his gaze and blushed.  
"As you can see, I'm not Filch. What're you doing out here Potter?"  
"I could ask you the same?"  
"I asked first."  
"I asked second."  
"Are you going to tell me?"  
"Fine, damn you."  
"Damn me. Go on, why're you out here?"  
Harry hesitated and looked at Malfoy warily. Grey eyes met his expectantly.  
"It's just- Well, it's stupid, but I'm just a bit- I'm feeling a bit annoyed at the moment."  
"No kidding. With who?"  
"R- Ron and Hermione," he sighed and looked out the window again.  
"Weasel and Granger? What did they do?"  
"Nothing on purpose, Malfoy, don't worry," he said, and shivered in the cold. "It's just that, well, they're a couple now."  
"Yes, I heard they were dating; it's quite funny actually, the Weasel finally got a girl. What's wrong? Are they excluding you or something?"  
"Not intentionally," Harry muttered.  
"Ah. Don't worry, the Weasel has no tact whatsoever when it comes to life."  
"Hey, don't just take this as an opportunity to insult my friends!"  
"I'm not! I'm just saying. So, what are they doing, kissing and stuff in front of you?"  
"Snogging. E- Everywhere. All the time."  
"That must be disturbing to witness. You alright?"  
Harry leaned his forehead against the cool stone of the wall and closed his eyes, shivering slightly again.  
"Yeah, I suppose. I just over-reacted."  
"Probably. Hey, Potter, you alright? You look frozen there."  
"Y- Yes it's pretty c- cold," he clutched his invisibility cloak around himself, causing the middle half of his body to disappear into thin air. Harry was startled as he felt a pair of warm arms slip around his middle from behind him.  
"Malfoy, what're you doing?"  
"Not a w- word of this to anyone, Potter, it's only because you're literally turning blue," the Slytherin replied, his effect ruined by stuttering.  
"A- Alright then…?" Harry replied awkwardly, unable to resist the warmth the boy's body bought him as he leaned in.  
There was an awkward silence. Harry could feel Malfoy's quick breath tickling his ear as he struggled for something to say.  
"Oh, um, you were going to tell me what _you_ were doing out here?"  
"Oh, yeah, right. Well, it's a bit embarrassing."  
"I told my story, you tell yours."  
Malfoy let out an irritated sigh but continued nevertheless. "I just got pissed at my house; they put some bloody spell on my bed to make my sheets attack me. I just came out here because the fools were all sniggering at me and the fact all I had on were my boxers as I came toppling out. That and my bed's now ruined."  
"Why did they do that? That's a bit harsh! I thought they all liked you?"  
The Slytherin snorted. "_Liked _me? They bloody _hate_ me! They seem to have taken it upon themselves to make my life a bloody misery."  
"Why? Aren't they all ex-Death Eaters themselves?"  
"You think that matters to them? They've all got charms to cover up their dark marks."  
"Oh. So, don't the marks fade then?"  
"Nope," said the boy bitterly. He twisted his arm upwards and used his other hand to pull the sleeve, momentarily tightening his grip around Harry's waist. Harry looked down to see the infamous tattoo on the blonde's forearm.  
"He can't still control you using it, can he?" Harry asked uncertainly.  
"Potter, he's dead, of course he can't."  
"Just checking, you could be about to push me out this window and I'd be finally dead," he grinned.  
"I am!" Malfoy laughed, lurching forward suddenly, but keeping his grip firmly around him.  
"Argh! Oh- Malfoy, you honestly scared the life out of me just then!"  
"Mission accomplished then," Harry could feel his smirk against his cheek.  
"Thanks a lot!"  
"No problem."  
"Slytherins," he sighed. "So, Malfoy, if you won't be sleeping in the dungeons, where're you going to sleep?"  
"Room of Requirement I suppose. That thing's a life saver."  
"Of course. So, what're-"  
Harry's question was interrupted by a loud clatter from around the corner. The pair froze and looked towards the noise in horror, then back at each other.  
"PEEVES!"  
Horror-struck, Harry recognised the voice as Argus Filch, the caretaker.  
"Quick!" Harry hissed, "get under here!"  
He threw the cloak over himself and Malfoy just in time before Mrs Norris the cat appeared around the corner, followed by a murderous looking Filch.  
"Flaming poltergeist… One day I'll get 'im, I'll get 'im one day… New headmistress, new rules, you'd think she'd have more sense, but no! Why ban a bloody annoying spirit from the castle… Handcuffed to the wall, I'd say, not that that would be possible when they can drift through the things…"  
The squib limped past him, lamp held aloft. Malfoy stiffened and stepped back painfully onto Harry's foot.  
"Gah! Malfoy -Mmmphh!" Harry's cry was stopped by a hand over his mouth. Harry's eyes widened as he realised what he'd done. He mentally cursed himself.  
"Who's 'ere?"  
Filch stared through the two of them with a wild look in his eye, scowling as he saw nobody around. He uncertainly peered around, then walked up to the arched window, stuck his head out and looked down.  
"Bloody ghost, thinks he can fool me… Come on, Mrs Norris, there's no one there…"  
He picked up the cat that had been staring right up at them and cradled him in his arms.  
"It's alright, my little Snookums, daddy's got you…"  
Harry bit his lip in attempt not to snigger as the caretaker hobbled away with his cat, muttering about not getting enough pay. Once he was sure he was gone, he pulled the cloak off and burst into muffled laughter.  
"D- Did you hear him when he said '_Snookums_'?"  
"Merlin, I swear it's suspicious what he does to that cat sometimes." Malfoy snorted.  
"That was a close one, sorry for shouting when you stood on my foot."  
"You're a Gryffindor, stupidity comes naturally."  
"Yes, because stepping on someone's toe whilst hiding's really intelligent, isn't it?"  
"Either way, Filch didn't catch us."  
"Mrs Norris could see us though, couldn't she?"  
"Yes, thank Merlin the squib can't read her mind."  
"He can't help being a squib, Malfoy."  
"And I can't help being a pureblood, Potter."  
Harry stared at him. "You don't like being a pureblood?"  
"I did, once. Before it made me have to be a Death Eater and follow the Dark Lord."  
"Well that's a very, very unusual fact. Not unreasonable, though."  
"Thanks for seeing it that way, Potter."  
"It's fine; you didn't ask to be a Malfoy, I didn't ask to be the Chosen One."  
Malfoy gave him a curious gaze, then smiled slightly. "I didn't know that back when I used to make fun of you for it."  
"It's fine, really," Harry smiled. "I had no idea you didn't want to be a Malfoy."  
"Yes, well, we've already apologised."  
"Yeah, we end up doing it every time we meet."  
Malfoy yawned and stretched his arms.  
"What time is it? I'm getting sleepy."  
"Almost one in the morning, I think. Don't worry, it's Saturday tomorrow."  
"One in the morning? I should probably go, then, I need my beauty sleep."  
"_Beauty sleep_? You're such a ponce, Malfoy!"  
To Harry's utmost surprise, the Slytherin's face turned scarlet with embarrassment.  
"Shut up, I'm very manly!"  
"Of course you are, because all men wear jewellery."  
"_Jewellery_?"  
"Yep, those rings you wear just _scream_ 'I'm tough'!"  
"It's called _fashion_!" Malfoy spluttered.  
"You're only digging your hole deeper," he grinned.  
"Whatever," pouted the blonde.  
"Don't sulk, Malfoy, you're very fashionable."  
"Shut up, Potter."  
"Sorry," winked Harry. "But it does look good on you."  
"I know," smirked Malfoy.  
"Well, I'll see you sometime tomorrow then?"  
"Yes," smiled the Slytherin.  
Harry grinned and turned to walk away.  
"Potter?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Your- Your clothes look good on you, too."  
"W- What?" Harry gaped at him.  
"Your- Nevermind, Potter," said the boy quickly, his blush returning.  
"Erm, well, thanks, Malfoy..."  
"Yes, erm, goodbye!"  
Harry stared after his retreating figure in alarm.

_What the hell was that all about?_

_~*DM/HP*~_


	5. Draco's POV - Sweet Dreams

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** K+  
**Genre:** romance  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary:** When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

_Fuck. What the hell was that all about?_

Draco closed his eyes as he pressed his hot forehead against the cool mirror walls.

_'Your clothes look good on you too'? What is wrong with me?! I could bloody feel him staring at me right until I'd turned the corner. He'd just said it as a joke, and I just had to go and misread his intentions. He probably thinks I'm gay now. He probably knows I'm gay now. No- wait, I'm not! Merlin, if I start assuming I am I might completely wreck my friendship with him. Just because I think he's attractive and his sweet-awkward-innocent-Potter-ish-happy-go-lucky personality makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, doesn't mean I'm bent for him._

He opened his eyes and glared at his reflection.

_Look at me, even if I did want to go out with him, he'd never feel the same; I'm an ex-Death Eater for Merlin's sake, and he's the 'Defeater of the Dark Lord', his new nickname given to him by the Daily Prophet._

He turned around and looked at the room. In the centre was a large four poster bed in red and gold, a dresser, a large mirror, a small bookshelf, two armchairs and a small coffee table bearing a kettle and two mugs. Draco tried not to think about what both the colours and the fact that the room was made for two meant. Crap. This room was supposed to contain what you desired most. He walked over to the bed and sat down, placing his wand on the bed-side cabinet as he did so.

_Shit – what am I going to do about clothes for tomorrow? _

He opened a drawer of the dresser.

_Thank Merlin._

The drawer was full of expensive looking tops and shirts. He sighed in relief and swung it shut, before slipping under the covers, resting his head against the pillow and falling asleep.

_*Draco's dream*_

"Blaise."  
"Malfoy."

_He wants to fight._

"You're too afraid to start a fight."  
"You filthy blood traitor."  
"You bloody back-stabber!"  
"Draco."  
Draco looked around at his father.  
"Father!"  
"Draco, fight Zabini Blaise."  
"Why?"  
"Do it, it is what is best for our family."  
"What? How?"  
"Afraid, Malfoy?"  
He turned back to Blaise.  
"As if."  
"Then fight me."  
"What? Why?"  
"Do it, Draco."  
"What's wrong with all of you? Fine, I'll fight you."  
He drew his wand.  
"I know you're gay."  
He was overcome with panic.  
"I'm not gay."  
"I see the looks you give Potter."  
"Draco? Looks? What looks?"  
"It's fine, father!"  
"_Illisus!"  
_Draco was knocked down to the ground.  
"Your son has a crush on Harry Potter."

_What? No! He can't tell him that!_

"Draco, you've let down our family."  
Draco's mother appeared.  
"Draco, how could you? After all our involvement with the dark arts to protect you?"  
She was sobbing.  
"Mother, no! Stop cr- crying!"  
He crawled over to her.  
"You're the one crying, Malfoy," said Goyle.

_How long has he been here?_

"Go to hell, you two!"  
"Well well, Malfoy, that's not very nice," said a silky voice.  
Draco turned to see Millicent Bulstrode. He looked back at his parents, giving them a pleading look.

_Why won't they stand up for me?_

"Draco, you've ruined us. Our reputation."  
"But, father-"  
"Draco Malfoy is a poufter?"  
"Yes, Bella, I do believe he is."  
The Dark Lord stood in front of him.

_He was dead, wasn't he?_

Ice cold fear gripped his heart.  
"I've ruined your life, filthy traitor."  
"Traitor? I was never on your side!"  
"I know you weren't."  
"_Retego_."  
Draco's clothes vanished. He scrambled to cover himself up with his hands. Bellatrix cackled with glee and pointed her wand at him. His arms were pinned to the floor. Hysterical laughter filled the room.  
"You look a bit flushed, Draco Malfoy," sneered the Dark Lord.  
The fifty Slytherins surrounding them howled with laughter.  
"Draco, you've ruined us."  
Draco tried to look up at his father.  
"You've murdered us."  
"N- NO! M- Mother! Father! St- Stop!"  
His parents crumpled to the ground.  
"NO! NO!"  
Draco's heart shattered and he reduced to sobs.  
"There's no use screaming, ickle Malfoy."  
The scene changed. They were in the great hall; it was lunch time.  
"Oh my God!"  
Draco could hear hoots of laughter as people looked over at his naked form sprawled out on the Slytherin table. Blurry figures swarmed around him. The Dark Lord leered, unnoticed by the students of Hogwarts. He frantically turned his head to look for Harry. He was sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring at him. Slowly, the Gryffindor stood up.  
"P- Potter! H- Help! My parents, he j- just k-" he broke down.  
Potter's face was creased with worry as he bent down to look at Draco. Draco stilled.  
"I'm here for you, Draco."  
His heavy heart filled with a weak mixture of relief and hope. Potter smiled at him and all feeling left his bones.  
"I love you."  
The Gryffindor's expression froze, then slowly turned into pure disgust and horror. He backed away.  
"Sick."  
"No, Harry!"  
He wordlessly continued retreating from Draco's desperate form, before vanishing into thin air. Draco suddenly felt as if his heart had just been ran over by the Night Bus.

"Death Eater."  
His head snapped up to look at Pansy Parkinson; the girl he had known since his childhood. He felt nauseous with sadness. His parents had been so ashamed of him they had died. Everybody was staring and whispering about him. He was exposed and humiliated. His last friend had gone, and Harry had left him. Harry had left him. Suddenly, the wood beneath him melted. Draco sank through the liquid, not even struggling. Until he realised he couldn't breathe. He slashed his arms around frantically, trying to find a way to the surface. The Dark Lord cackled.  
"I've ruined your life, Draco Malfoy."

He thrashed around, choking for air, the melted table slipping between his fingertips, strangling him, enclo- wait, hold on -liquids can't strangle? And they're not made out of silk, either. Draco's eyes shot open to be presented with darkness.

_Where the hell am I?! Oh._

His bed covers were drenched with sweat. He pulled them off of him and gulped in the cold night air.

_Merlin, that was one hell of a nightmare._

He ran a hand through his damp hair and stared around the pitch black Come and Go Room.

_So much for beauty sleep._

He drowsily reached for his wand and gave it a complicated wave. He felt the heat fill the air, drying both his hair and the sheets. He'd have a shower in the morning. For now, though, he really, really needed to get to sleep.

_Merlin, I'm glad there's no class tomorrow._


	6. Harry's POV - I'll Stay Here

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** T  
**Genre:** romance/angst  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary: **When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance. Some swearing, but quite a sweet fic.:3**  
****Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

"Right, that's Charms done at last," sighed Harry in relief.  
"Defence Against the Dark Arts next," groaned Ron.  
"Look, if you two got it out of the way as soon as it was set, you wouldn't end up having to do it last-minute."  
"Hermione, it's not last minute! It's due Tuesday and unlike Ron, I've already done my Defence homework."  
"What? Argh, thanks a lot Harry, I thought you were behind too, that's the only reason I didn't bother with it, I don't want to do homework all alone."  
"No, Ronald, Harry is being responsible."  
"Actually I was bored, you two were snogging."  
"Yes, well you still got it out of the way."  
"Hermione, could you please, _please_ help me with this? You're so much better at it than I am!"  
"No, you need to learn to do this yourself, how else are you going to pass your N.E.W.T.s?"  
"With your help?" he tried hopefully.  
"That would be cheating! N.E.W.T.s are real exams, this is just help with homework."  
"So you'll help me? Please, Hermione, you're good at this sort of stuff."  
"I shouldn't," she huffed, but Harry could see her fond smile behind the quill she was fiddling with.  
"Harry, you've already done this, can't you give me a hand?"  
"Sure, I suppose. It's upstairs, I'll go get it."  
"Cheers, mate!"  
"Not sure it's all correct, though."  
"I don't care," grinned Ron.  
Harry grinned and rolled his eyes, before going upstairs to get the work for Ron. He found it amidst the mess of his bedroom in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet. He grabbed it and went back downstairs.  
"I wonder if I still have that talking homework planner you once gave me?" Ron's loud voice could be heard from the top of the stairs.  
"Well even if you do, you shouldn't be able to write in it, it'll be full."  
"Yeah, I wrote in it, of course…"

_Didn't he attempt to strangle it with a belt one time when it wouldn't shut up?_

"Here," he tossed him the parchment. "Sorry if it's got smudges."  
"S'fine, s'fine."  
Harry sat down at the table in the common room.  
"So Harry, what other homework have you got?"  
"Give him a break, Hermione, you're worse than mum!"  
"None. It's not really as hard as I thought it would be. No homework now, nothing to do."  
"Would you like to help me with some S.P.E.W. work?"  
"Umm, no, Hermione, I'm fine, actually."  
"Of course you are."  
"What is that you're doing, anyway? Looks pretty official and fancy."  
"I'm writing to the Ministry," she answered happily, obviously pleased with Harry's interest. "I do hope the war was a bit of a wake-up call for them."  
"Impressive! I didn't know you'd be taking it this far."  
"Well, I've always felt strongly about Elf rights. Now that Kingsley's in charge, I'm hoping they'll take more into account."  
"Of course they will," Ron spoke up. "You're a war heroine now, aren't you? Everyone's worshipping you."  
"That's true," agreed Harry. "Not to mention that you are pretty well - _persistent_ – when you want something."  
"Harry, I need to concentrate."  
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in mock-surrender. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed. He awkwardly lowered them. "So, um, are you guys going to be doing that all day?"  
"Only for another hour or two," replied Hermione absent-mindedly.  
"Oh, okay."  
"Uh-huh."  
Harry looked at the pair of them and sighed.

_I wonder what Malfoy's up to._

Harry twirled his quill around in his fingers. Malfoy was probably still in the Room of Requirement, if he still wasn't talking to his house; that, or he was in that hidden room in the library.

_I don't know if that place has a name._

Harry wasn't even tired from talking to Malfoy the other night, quite the opposite; he felt wide awake and slightly bored at the lack of activity.  
"You guys mind if I go?"  
"No, it's fine."  
"I'll put this back in your drawer when I'm done, okay?"  
"Yeah, thanks."  
"Bye."  
"See you."  
He got up and walked out of the common room.

_Well, better reactions from them than last night._

He was still quite energetic by the time he reached the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy on the seventh floor. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.

_I'm looking for the place Draco Malfoy is staying in._

Harry waited a second before opening them again, then looked up at the large dark door.

_If only it had been that simple in sixth year. Would Malfoy want me to knock?_

Deciding he might as well, he reached up for the over-large knocker and used it to gently knock on the door. The sound seemed to echo several times, before fading away to reveal a groggy voice.  
"Mmmph… 'ello? That Potter?"

_Can he hear me?_

Slightly unsure of himself, he uncertainly pressed his cheek to the door.  
"Yeah, it's me, I'm bored stiff! Mind if I come in?"  
"P- Potter? Well, I'm in my pajamas."  
"Please? It's not as if I didn't see you in them last night. There's nothing to do anywhere else around the castle."  
There was a pause.  
"If you insist," he said groggily. "But I probably look awful. I g- got no s… sleep, so don't hold it against me..."  
"Of course I won't," grinned Harry, stepping back out of the way of the opening doors.  
"I'm exhausted," grumbled Draco.  
"I'm not," said Harry cheerfully, stepping inside.  
Harry glanced at the room.

_Well this isn't exactly what I would have thought of as Draco's choice of decoration._

"Got the deco' wrong, didn't they?"  
"Wh- What?"  
As he approached, he realised that Draco really did look terrible. His usually perfect hair was ruffled and jagged, his puffy eyes holding large, blue-grey bags under them, and his skin was shining slightly from sweat.  
"Blimey, are you okay? You look ill!"  
"Well thanks a lot."  
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I see what you meant about 'beauty sleep', you need to sleep twelve hours a day to remain looking like a normal person. No offence!"  
"I don't usually look like any old 'normal person', Potter, I'm a Malfoy," he croaked drowsily.  
"Modest even this early in the morning. God, Malfoy, I swear you're sick. Do you want to go to the hospital wing?"  
The Slytherin's head snapped up, (literally, Harry heard a click) apparently as he heard the word 'sick'.  
"You alright, Malfoy?" Harry asked, alarmed at the boy's slowly growing horrified expression.  
"I- I'm not sick," he choked.  
"Huh? Malfoy, you take offence far too easily."  
"Harry, please, I'm not! Harry, I'm not sick, I'm n- normal, see? I'm normal!" Draco's voice was cracking.  
"What?" Harry was startled. "I didn't mean it! Wh- Are you sure you're okay? And when did you start calling me 'Harry'?"  
"Harry, please, I'm sorry! I d- don't, I'm not sick o- or gross or anything, I j-"  
"Hey, hey!" he hushed. "Malf - wait, no, I mean 'Draco' – calm down! Wow, this is what sleep deprivation does to you. Perhaps you should go back to sleep," he remarked, placing a hand on the Slytherin's chest to calm him down.  
"D- Don't leave," he trembled, his face growing scarlet.  
"If you don't want me to, I won't. Why don't you want me to go?"  
"N- No reason."  
"O- Okay…? Well, um, what do you want me to do? There's not much here. Yes, I'll stay here, I promise," he gave Draco a reassuring smile, although not completely reassured himself.

_What's wrong with him?_

"Err," Draco ran a hand through his matted hair sleepily. "Try looking ar… around in some boxes and cabinets and wardrobes and boxes and stuff…"  
"Right."  
The boy shivered slightly whilst sliding back into the protection of the covers. Harry watched in concern.  
"You'll be alright?"  
"Y- Ymph…"

_I'll take that as a yes._

Harry gave the Slytherin one more worried glance before going to look for something in the room to do; immediately, of course, he went to the shelf of books. _'Potions: From Science to Art', 'A Darker Shade of Potion', 'All's Fair in Love and Quidditch', 'Beating for the Other Side', 'Starry Skies', 'Regaining Reputations', 'Defence Against the Dark Bitches', 'Broken Cauldrons', 'His Best Subject Was Charms', 'A Tall, Dark Wizard', 'Lumos', 'Cobbled Pavestones', 'Green Flames', 'The Closed Apothecary', 'Beauty and the Dragon'. _Harry ran his finger over the book spines. _All's Fair in Love and_ _Quidditch_ looked interesting. Well, interesting as in: 'I can finally show those Slytherins who's boss'. He plucked the book out and sat down on one of the arm chairs, pouring himself a cup of still boiling hot coffee, although Harry had never actually heated it.

_God I love magic._

The cover of the book showed a moving picture of a rather attractive man flying through the air, snitch in hand and a very prominent smirk plastered on his face. Those flying around him either looked at him with admiration or envy.

_'All's Fair in Love and Quidditch'  
The world's best guide on chasing, blocking, seeking and beating._

'Chapter One' read the voice in Harry's head, one eye on the exhausted blonde. "Pitch Positioning."


	7. Draco's POV - No More Denial

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** T  
**Genre:** romance/angst  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary: **When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance. Some swearing, but quite a sweet fic.:3**  
****Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

When he woke at eight O'clock, he had no idea where he was. All he knew was that he was a lot more comfortable than he had been when he had woken up earlier.

_Oh yes, Harry's here._

Draco's stomach suddenly coiled.

_Harry saw me like this?_

His body was still pretty stiff but he moved his head and opened his crusty eyes.  
"Draco? You're awake?"  
"Harry," he said hoarsely.  
"Hey."  
Draco heard the uncertainty in his voice and winced inwardly.  
"What time is it?" Draco slowly sat up.  
"Eight."  
"Really? I thought I'd wake up really late."  
"In the evening."  
"Oh, right."  
"Yeah."  
"So, um, what've you been doing whilst I was asleep?"  
"Reading a Quidditch book," he replied, showing Draco the cover. "So that's how you were so good."  
"What's it called?"  
"_All's Fair in Love and Quidditch_."  
"I've never heard of it," said Draco, groaning as his forehead pounded against the palm of his hand.  
"Are you okay?" Draco warmed up slightly at the worry in Harry's voice. "Do you want to go to the hospital wing?"  
"And explain I've had a nightmare? No way."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Well… Can I get you anything?" Harry asked, crouching down to look worriedly into Draco's eyes, inches from his.  
Draco suddenly felt very excited. The Gryffindor frowned slightly in question when the Slyhterin's face lit up.  
"Any tea, or a cold flannel or something? I don't know what's supposed to be good for you, but the Dursleys always gave Dudley that sort of stuff when he was ill."  
"Both would be appreciated," he rushed. "And some food."  
"Sure. But I'll have to go down to the kitchens to get it, that okay? You didn't really want me to leave earlier."

_Oh great, how much did I embarrass myself?_

"It's fine."  
"Okay."  
"But come straight back!"  
"I will," smiled the Gryffindor.  
Draco felt pretty light-headed at that, and it wasn't from lack of sleep.  
"Thanks," Draco called after him as he left.

_I guess there's no denying it now. I've had a nightmare that he said he didn't love me back which caused me to almost wet the flaming bed, his smile made me feel all tingly and I want him to stay in here with me. I am fucked._

He looked around the room. There was a used coffee mug on the table, next to the book he'd been reading. On the armchair closest to the bed was a crumpled dark red hoodie that was obviously Harry's. Draco smiled wistfully. He slowly reached out of bed and grabbed the book, before sliding back into the bed.

_All these tactics he thinks he can use against me._

Draco grinned to himself.

_I'll just have to find out how to stop them._

He flipped the book over.

_Do you find yourself constantly losing in Quidditch? Do you not quite manage to block the hoops? Can you never quite close that inch between yourself and the Snitch? Do you find yourself coming back to your team's changing rooms to disappointed and tired faces? Fixing those things is simple! All's Fair in Love and Quidditch by Lucas Williams offers simple yet unknown tips for Quidditch players.  
'Easy for beginners, perfect for professionals.' –Which Broomstick?  
'Simple to follow tips and tricks to amaze your fans and horrify your competition.' –Flourish and Blotts' Book Guide._

Snorting to himself, he opened the book and began to read.


	8. Harry's POV - The 'Elder Wand'

**Title:** Green Eyes, Happy Sighs  
**Author:** Ellatrix Lestrange  
**Beta(s):** none  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Rating:** K+  
**Genre:** romance  
**Pairing:** Draco/Harry  
**Summary:** When Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter decide to call a truce after the war, will their newly found friendship develop into something more? And will Draco shake off the Death Eater reputation the whole of Hogwarts is holding against him? A Draco/Harry slash romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the wizarding world; I am merely a fan writing fan fiction, and giving Harry Potter the ending I wish it had. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros etc.

_I hope you enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

"Well, well, well," drawled a voice from behind him.  
Harry dropped the bag of food he'd been carrying in surprise and span around to come face to face with Blaise Zabini.  
"What do you want, Zabini?"  
"Not a very friendly tone of voice, Potter.'  
"Well we're not exactly friends, are we?"  
"You're friends with Malfoy."  
"Yes, but you're not. What do you want?"  
"You may have defeated Dark Lords, Potter, but that doesn't make you invincible."  
"Shut up; why are you even talking to me?"  
"Am I not worthy of speaking to the 'Defeater of the Dark Lord'?"  
"I didn't choose that nickname."  
"I know you didn't. You're far too modest for that," Blaise smirked, moving closer to a struggling Harry.  
Harry was pressed against the wall behind him. Before he could stop him, the tall boy grabbed his wand and threw it behind his back.  
"Get off! You're seriously not starting a fight?"  
"Not a fight," he growled.  
Harry looked up into the darker boy's face. His black eyes were sparkling and his lips were licked.  
"Then what the hell are you doing? Whatever you want, I'm not giving it to you, no matter how small it might be."  
"_Small_? Oh no, I get the impression it's actually quite… big."  
Harry was slightly unnerved by the confidence and suggestive tone in his voice.  
"Well, what do you want then?"  
"Something I can't get. Something that I might have in my fingertips, but can't truly own."

_Sounds like the Elder wand._

"How am I supposed to give it to you? Not that I even would, by the way."  
"It's really quite simple," Zabini moved even closer; Harry paralysed against the stone behind him.  
"Harry?"  
Both Zabini and Harry turned their heads, the Slytherin more sharply.  
"Weasley."  
"Let go of him, you bloody Death Eater!" Ron ran forward, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at Zabini's nose.  
"As you wish," Blaise let go of Harry and turned to Ron.  
Harry winced and picked himself back up.  
"Cheers, Ron."  
"No problem, mate," huffed the red-head, not surrendering his weapon.  
Blaise looked at him with a look of both annoyance yet satisfaction in his eyes.  
"As if you could fight me," he smirked. "You don't have the skill."  
"Want to try and prove that theory?"  
"Not particularly," he yawned. "I'm not an idiot, McGonogall's looking for any excuse to have me expelled."  
"Of course that's the reason," snorted Ron.  
Harry slipped under Zabini's arm and picked up both his bag and wand, joining Ron in pointing it at the boy.  
"Better be on your way," said Harry.  
Zabini smirked and walked past the pair, being sure to smash Ron's shoulder with his. As soon as he was out of sight, Ron turned to his best friend.  
"Bloody hell, mate! Don't go wandering around Hogwarts alone if you can't even defend yourself against Zabini! What were you doing, anyway? You were missing all day!"  
"Oh, I was in the Room of Requirement."  
"The Room of Requirement? Why?"  
"Draco wanted me to stay in there for some reason; he's kind of ill."  
"Draco Malfoy? You were 'staying with him'? I knew you guys called a truce and talked, I had no idea you were like, close friends!"  
"Yep, it just sort of happened," smiled Harry. "He's a lot nicer than you'd think. And funny too."  
Ron gave him a weird look.  
"_Funny_? Draco Malfoy. You laugh at his jokes?"  
"Told you," Harry shook his head.  
"So, want to come and play Exploding Snap? I've finally finished the blasted homework."  
"Sorry, can't, I was just getting food from the kitchens for him," said Harry, feeling around to try and find the stolen food he'd dropped. He found and opened it; a few Pumpkin Pasties looked a bit squashed, but apart from that everything was fine.  
"You never bought me free food when I was ill!"  
"Whenever you weren't well, you were in the hospital wing."  
"Fine. So, I take it you took Hermione's advice in being less hateful towards the Snakes?"  
"Advice? No, I decided it when I was partnered with him for Potions."  
"Oh, really?"  
"Yep."  
"So, how is Malfoy ill? If it's something like Dragon Pox, you better not be staying near him or anything!"  
"Dragon Pox? No, he's just really tired and looks fairly sick."  
"He _'looks fairly_ sick'? You went to sneak food for him from the kitchens because he '_looks fairly sick'_?" Ron asked incredulously.  
"Hey! I was bored, it was that or just reading; and besides, I was hungry too, I didn't have lunch or dinner."  
"You just completely cancelled out your argument about hunger by saying you didn't go to the two free meals we get, mate."  
"I was reading," he shrugged. "I only noticed it when he woke up."  
"Bastard's probably smirking to himself about the fact that you're slaving around after him right now, did you know that?"  
"Ron, he was pretty upset."  
"Walk in without knocking, I'll bet he's been faking and is now jumping around the room or something."  
"No, I trust him."  
"You _trust_ him? Harry, this is _Malfoy_ we're talking about here."  
"An Ill Draco Malfoy who seemed pretty fucking upset about something or other."  
"Fine, fine, but don't expect me to spare you the '_I told you so'_."  
"Well bye then," he waved.  
"Sure you can't just ditch him and come with me? It's not as if he's never wronged you," said Ron, pausing where he was about to part from Harry.  
"I'm sure," sighed Harry, grinning.  
"Bye, Harry!"

The large door was once again in front of him.  
"Draco, can I come in?"

_Draco. It feels weird to say that. Weird but not… unwelcome._

"Yeah, sure," called Draco, his voice pretty much back to normal.  
"Thanks," said Harry, walking inside. "The food's in this bag, here."  
"It feels weird to be about to eat this late," said the Slytherin, smiling at him sleepily.  
"Feeling better?"  
"Yes, I think I may have a cold though; and I definitely have a headache."  
"It'll be fine," said Harry. "Here."  
He tipped the contents of the bag on to Draco's lap.  
"Hey! House Elves don't come in here to clean!"  
"Ah well," Harry laughed, rescuing a stray Pumpkin Pasty from its suicidal attempt at rolling off of the bed.  
"Pumpkin Pasties? Great, thanks," He smiled, then added: "but I'm not having that one, your germs are on it."  
"It's always nice when people are grateful when you go down to the kitchens at eight to get them food."  
"Sorry…" Draco said sheepishly.  
"Yeah, '_sorry_'. By the way I couldn't get you any proper meals, I wouldn't have been able to carry them up here. At least we have some cakes and stuff."  
"Cheers, Harry," said Draco warmly, looking up into Harry's eyes.  
"No problem," Harry grinned. "But I get some."  
"Of course," he smirked. "Pass me the Pumpkin Juice?"  
"Here."  
Harry sat down and took a slice of treacle tart from the mess. The two boys ate in comfortable silence for a while.  
"I bumped into Blaise Zabini while I was on my way back," said Harry, wiping his hands together to get the crumbs off.  
"Zabini? What did he want?" Draco asked sharply.  
"I don't really know, Ron found me before he could continue."  
"What did he do to you?"  
"Disarmed me and pinned me to a wall – Zabini, I mean, not Ron! Anyway, it wasn't my fault, I didn't know he'd want to fight after the war and everything."  
"Oh Harry," sighed the Slytherin. "You're the one who defeated the Dark Lord, pretty much every one of the older Slytherins want to kill you for putting their families in Azkaban."  
"Oh, right. I wasn't really paying much attention, to be honest."  
"What were you thinking about?

_You._

"Just, you know, stuff," he lied.  
Harry had truthfully been thinking about the boy right in front of him; the fact that they could have been friends if Harry had only shaken his hand, how different his life would have been. He could honestly say that he deeply regretted it.  
"_Stuff_? Right, descriptive."  
"I can't really remember."  
"Way to make conversation."  
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "So, when do you think you'll be okay to get out of this room and not need me right here?"  
Draco blushed.  
"I don't, I'm just too sleepy to leave and too lonely and bored here on my own."  
"Then why don't you sleep?"  
"Do you not want to be here or something?"  
"I do! I do, Draco, I was just asking."  
Draco's face brightened.  
"I know," he smiled. "I like it here, everything's so luxurious and convenient."  
"And red and gold. Why didn't they do it silver and green?"  
"I don't know! Why didn't they do the sky silver and green?"  
"Hey, hey! I was only asking!"  
"Whatever," sulked Draco.  
"You're so grouchy when you're tired."  
"Then let me be grouchy."  
"I would, but you insisted for my company, so I at least want a decent conversation."  
"I just… Don't know what to talk about."  
"We could talk about the upcoming Quidditch match?" Harry grinned. "Slytherin versus Gryffindor. It's obvious who'll win."  
"Yes, Slytherin," he smirked.  
"You wish!"  
"So, I take it you're still the Gryffindor captain?"  
"Yeah, and I'm still seeker. Are you?"  
"Well, yes, but nobody wants me on the team."  
"Why? You're a pretty good player."  
"I know I am, but they all hate me, don't they?"  
"I'd offer you a place on mine, but, well, there's a slight house difference," he laughed.  
"I'm sure nobody will notice. I could just wear red, nobody will need to know," Draco joked.  
"Of course they wouldn't. So, who's your captain then?"  
"Theodore Nott."  
"Is he or is he '_Nott_' any good at Quidditch?" Harry winked.  
"Oh that was dreadful, absolutely _dreadful_. It's an embarrassment to wizard-kind."  
"I thought it was quite good!"  
"You would."  
"Shut up, it's just because you're grumpy at the moment."  
"And you're making my mood worse by showing me how terrible jokes are nowadays."  
"Very funny."  
"Funnier than you."  
"You're not making me laugh," said Harry, betraying his statement with a twitch of his lip.  
"Oh, but I can see the mirth in your eyes!"  
"And I can see the mirth in yours," he grinned.  
"I'm only kidding, Harry, you're very funny."  
"Good."  
"Funny looking anyway."  
"Hey!"  
The two boys spent the rest of the evening bickering half-heartedly about which one of them was the funniest. By the time they had worn about fifteen heated debates out, (although no winners had been chosen for any of them) it was almost twelve at night.


	9. Draco's POV - Convenient Disappearances

**Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me - although I wish Draco was mine!(; - everything belongs to the all-knowing, amazing, spectacular blessing to Earth that is J.K. Rowling.**

"And that's why Weasley's Wizard Wheezes kicks Zonkos' ass," finished Harry with a tone of finality that allowed no space for argument.  
"You may have won the battle, but I will win the war!" Draco laughed.  
"That was the war, each argument was a battle."  
"We did not negotiate this!" cried Draco in a mock-voice of outrage.  
"We didn't negotiate any of it."  
"True," Draco sighed, grinning.  
"A- And-" Harry yawned. "I won every round."  
"Wow, you lose your energy quickly," commented the Slytherin. "You looked like you were on a potion earlier, you were that energetic."  
"You're just exaggerating because you were half asleep."  
"Hey, I'm not complaining, I'm knackered as well."  
"Time went fast," grinned Harry. "Do you have a watch?"  
"Because everyone wears a watch whilst in their pajamas. Look, there's one there," he nodded at the bedside cabinet to where a clock conveniently stood. Draco was certain it hadn't been there earlier.  
"Blimey,_ twelve_?!" Harry gasped.  
"_What_? We have _not_ been talking for four hours!"  
"_Shit._"  
"What?"  
"I haven't got my Invisibility cloak!"  
"Can't you just sneak back there?"  
"I don't know if I can," said Harry. "I've never wandered around without my cloak on at night before."  
"Am I the only one who found that sentence kinky?"  
Harry blinked.  
"Yes."  
"I must excuse myself, I haven't been out with anyone in literally a year."  
"Oh, right, yeah," said Harry, giving the boy a suspicious glance.  
Draco blushed.

_Fuck, he's suspicious._

"So, what are we doing about getting you back to your dormitory?"  
"I can't sleep in here, there's only one bed."  
Draco turned a very deep shade of scarlet.  
"Shit, what are we going to do? There isn't a second blanket or anything, is there?"  
The blonde looked down at the bed. There was no blanket. He decided not to mention the fact that there _had _been one there a minute ago.  
"No. Oh, great."  
"Couldn't you have kept an eye on the time?" Harry groaned.  
"Couldn't you?"  
"I know! Give me some cushions or something, I'll sleep on the floor."  
"How very courteous of you; but I'm afraid there only seems to be one."

_There were five earlier._

"Oh, great."  
"Fuck."  
"Shit."  
"Hell."  
"If I sleep in your bed," blushed Harry, "um, yeah."  
"You want to sleep in my bed?"  
"No, you know full well I don't _want_ to, but the situation looks like I'll _have_ to! Fuck, this is your fault!"  
"How is it my fault?!"

_Hell, why does every item of furniture that could possibly suffice for a bed seem to disappear?_

His heart was beating very fast indeed.

_This is the Room of Requirement, what you want conveniently appears, what you don't want vanishes. If I didn't want Harry in my bed, another one would appear. Hell, I want Harry to fall asleep next to me._

He looked down at the bed.

_Fine; I guess it is my fault. But it's also the room's._

Draco glared at the ceiling.  
"Fine," Harry stated forcefully. "Where can I find some pyjamas?"  
Draco's heart did a little back-flip.  
"I- In the dresser," stuttered the Slytherin.  
"The dresser."  
"Yes. Mind if I- I take a shower?"  
"You just had to go and make this whole situation seem more sexual, didn't you? No, I don't mind."  
"Thanks," said Draco.  
"Don't thank me, it's your room."  
"Sorry for this, Harry," said Draco weakly. "I should've watched the time."  
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
"It's not your fault. I didn't mean to be edgy with you, I'm sorry too."  
Draco gave him a lopsided smile before getting up, going to the bathroom and taking a long, cold shower.

"Harry, did you fi-"  
Draco's sentence was cut off when he saw Harry.

_Wow._

The very mortified Gryffindor was sat on the bed, wearing what must have been the room's pyjamas. He was wore a pair of silk, dark green boxers and a black tank top showing the shape of his abs. Draco tried and failed at stopping his body take over all rational thought.  
"N- Nice pyjamas," Draco commented, his attempt at acting nonchalantly spoilt by his very dry mouth.  
"Shut up," grunted Harry, to Draco's immense relief interpreting his comment as sarcasm.  
"Uh-huh," he managed.  
Both Harry and Draco's faces were deep crimson.

_Define 'awkward'._

"Well, Harry, err… Do you w- want to get in the bed, then?"  
"God, this is mortifying," moaned Harry.  
"You don't need to tell me twice."  
"Let's pretend this never happened, after."  
Neither moved towards the bed.  
"O- Okay," he gulped.

_Suddenly, I'm not very tired anymore._

"W- Which side do you want?"  
"I don't m- mind."  
"I'll take the left, then," said Harry, looking pretty humiliated as he pulled back the covers and slipped in.  
"Y- Yeah," he said, doing the same.  
Draco felt the annoyingly pleasant warmth of Harry's body as he slid in. Both boys lay next to each other, staring at the ceiling and not moving.  
"Well, um, night, Draco."  
"Y- Yeah. Goodnight."

_Well; that escalated quickly._


End file.
